New Tricks
by purple-drake
Summary: COMPLETE  Prince Charming needs to learn how to drive a car. Rumpelstiltskin makes him a deal.


_Scenario:__After __Snow __White __read __him __the __fairy-tale __book __Prince __Charming __became __aware __in __his __own __body__—__able __to __hear __others __speaking __and __react __in __some __small __ways __when __under __great __emotion__—__but __was __otherwise __unable __to __move, __talk __or __even __open __his __eyes. __Mr __Gold, __still __with __his __memories __of __Rumpelstiltskin __intact, __realised __that __Charming __also __remembered __their __original __world __and __had __the __prince __transferred __to __his __own __house __while __he __recovered __to __'watch __over' __him, __while __also __assuring __him __that __Emma __was __in __town __and __the __final __battle __was __drawing __near._

_This __scenario __will __hopefully __be __ficced __sometime __in __the __future, __but __otherwise __here's a __scene __which __leapt __out __at __me._

* * *

><p><strong>NEW TRICKS<strong>

Three weeks of being ambulatory and in Rumpelstiltskin's care was more than enough. Charming felt no obligation to honour any deal he'd made with the man; Rumpelstiltskin—or Mr Gold, as Rumpelstiltskin had insisted Charming call him—was the worst sort of person and Charming had no intention of encouraging him.

It still took three weeks before he managed to make it to the stables—the garage, as _Rumpelstiltskin__'__s_ manservant had called it. Charming had been able to see out the windows enough to see the machines called 'cars' which people used in the place of horses, and since they were his only means of solid transportation he would just have to take one to get away from Rumpelstiltskin's house on the outskirts of the town. Otherwise Rumpelstiltskin would simply find him again.

The problem was that Charming wasn't quite up to his usual shape; he was breathless and leaning against the wall by the time he made it down to where the cars were kept, his eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen him. After so long in bed his legs didn't seem to want to work as well as they should and even now they trembled, threatening to dump him on the floor. Wouldn't _that_ have been a state for Rumpelstiltskin to find him in?

The prince gritted his teeth and used the wall to steady him as he made his way toward one of the cars. There were several, of different sizes and shapes, just like horses; how much more difficult could they be to ride? Horses had their own foibles and personality. Cars were only a machine. A machine of a sort Charming had never seen before, much more complicated than the wind-up clocks and toys Geppetto made, but still only a machine.

He picked the dark blue car, if only because it might blend in a bit better if he chose to make his escape at night—from a distance it looked almost black. It seemed obvious that he was meant to open one of the doors on the side, like it was a carriage, and fortunately they were unlocked despite the keyholes. It took the prince a moment to figure that the driver was meant sit behind the wheel on the biggest part of the front of it, however; there weren't any reins, so the wheel had to be involved with controlling the vehicle somehow. Sitting down was so much more of a relief than it should have been, and the chair was so comfortable—for a few moments Charming sat back in it, catching his breath, his legs still dangling out the door. Then, grimly, the prince pulled in his feet and set them gingerly on the floor, avoiding the pedals there. (They looked a bit like the pedals on a spinner's wheel. He remembered because his sister-in-law had been—_was_—a spinner and he'd seen her wheel on one of his visits to his brother, though he couldn't quite imagine what they had to do with a carriage. He had to respect the woman for keeping the thing around after how she'd been cursed with it, though.)

After that Charming wasn't entirely sure how to proceed, and for a few moments he stared at the wheel and the car's front, still a bit breathless. Well, there was the wheel, which he was already assuming were the 'reins'; he put his hands on it a bit hesitantly, as if just touching it would make the car move. Nothing happened. There were a few knobs around the wheel, but when he flicked them nothing happened again, and on closer exploration he found a keyhole. His heart sank; well, that made things difficult. Horses could be locked up, but they didn't need a key to be ridden, and apparently cars did—unless the hole was meant to somehow open up the front.

"Having fun, Prince Charming?"

Rumpelstiltskin's voice so close over his shoulder made Charming jump in surprise and nearly hit his head on the car's ceiling. His head snapped around, hands already half lifted defensively and heart pounding. Rumpelstiltskin stood at the open door, half bent to see into the car with one hand bracing himself on the door (the other was on his cane) and wearing a smirk. As always, he was too close for comfort—Charming instinctively leaned back to give himself space.

"What are you doing here?" Charming demanded after giving himself a moment to catch his breath, but considering the look on Rumpelstiltskin's face it was entirely likely the man had been here all along. Watching him.

The thought made the prince's skin crawl.

His stupid question only made Rumpelstiltskin's grin widen. "This _is_ my garage. Were you trying to steal one of my cars? My, my. We _have_ hit new lows."

The barb struck, but Charming refused to let it stick. "Robin taught me a thing or two."

"You obviously weren't a very good student, though."

Charming jerked his gaze away, his lips tightening as he exhaled slowly through his nose. Robin of Loxley was a good man, even as a thief, but it was true Charming hadn't had much need for the same sorts of skills. He was just wondering how Rumpelstiltskin was going to hold this over his head when, abruptly, something metal and jingling was tossed into his lap. He jerked in surprise and his hand automatically went to pick it up—a set of keys—while his head turned so he could look at Rumpelstiltskin, knowing his expression was baffled.

"I'm sure Robin knows well how to hotwire a car," Rumpelstiltskin said, "but he's not going to know you from John anymore, is he, Prince Charming?" Then he laughed that awful cackling laugh, his head tipping back as he straightened. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't the same bent-over crawling thing in this world; Charming still hadn't gotten used to his new height, and even though Charming was still the taller of the two right then it was surprisingly intimidating to be sitting there next to the man. The prince had to crane his head just to look at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Rumpelstiltskin patted him on the shoulder and Charming almost flinched, both at the touch and the coolness of the man's hand through his flannel shirt. "It might be useful for you to know how to drive."

"Are you suggesting you'll teach me?" Charming asked, half in disbelief and half simply appalled. "And what kind of price are you going to ask for _that_?"

"Assuming you get any good at it, I'll settle for you being my driver on occasion."

"For how long?" Charming's tone was sceptical, but he made no effort to hide it. It was a decent idea. If he could drive the carriages in this world then he could get to places quickly without needing to rely on Rumpelstiltskin's benevolence. The problem was that it was _Rumpelstiltskin_ offering to teach him.

Rumpelstiltskin laughed again (a less cackling, almost _normal_ laugh), and this time reached out to pat Charming's head; the prince pulled away, his lip curling. "You're catching on to old Rumpelstiltskin's game. Why don't we say ten trips? Ten trips to anywhere I want to go, no questions asked—there and back again."

Ten trips. That wasn't actually much; it was the rest of the conditions that worried Charming more. Besides, where was Rumpelstiltskin going to go? From what Charming had heard, he couldn't leave town. For a few moments Charming didn't say anything, gripping the wheel and staring at the dials behind it. Learning how to drive one of these cars, in return for driving Rumpelstiltskin anywhere ten times, no questions asked, and bringing him back.

"Five trips," he said finally, but when he looked over Rumpelstiltskin was wagging his finger.

"Ah, ah. That's not how it works. Ten trips."

Charming exhaled. That's how it had always been; Rumpelstiltskin named his price and people gave it to him, because what they asked for was worth the price he set. Ten trips around a town no one could leave, assuming he even mastered driving a car. In return, Charming learned how to use that which gave he and his family one of their best chances of escaping the witch. And, if necessary, Charming had no compunctions about not following through.

"Very well."

"Now that wasn't so very difficult, was it, dear?" Rumpelstiltskin smiled his most predatory smile and Charming almost reneged right there and then; but then the man was leaning back down and Charming drew back, his heart beating faster, as Rumpelstiltskin reached for something near the floor. The next moment, the chair was _moving_ with a jerk that made Charming flinch and grip the wheel tighter even while it moved further way.

"There," Rumpelstiltskin said in a satisfied tone, pulling back. "You've got long legs, Prince. And let's not forget your seatbelt, shall we? We wouldn't want you to end up in the hospital again." Startled at the sudden whir by his ear, Charming pressed himself against the chair as Rumpelstiltskin pulled down a thick cord and buckled it into a fastener on his opposite side. The belt felt tight across his chest and hips, but it was the way the action made Rumpelstiltskin lean over him that made Charming tense. It was difficult not to expect the man to do _something_, this close.

Then, just as suddenly, Rumpelstilskin was gone from the door, shutting it behind him. Charming jumped a little at the sound and craned his head to try and follow the man, but he simply walked around the car, opening the door on the other side and sliding in, planting the end of his cane on the floor between his feet. The second door closed and Charming found himself in a carriage with Rumpelstiltskin, the very last place and person he thought he'd be riding with. True, cars weren't anything like the carriages he was used to, with the huge windows to all sides and especially at the front, but with the windows raised it was still an enclosed space and Charming couldn't help but eye Rumpelstiltskin warily as his companion straightened his clothes.

"Now then," Rumpelstiltskin said, his tone oddly brisk in a way Charming had only heard in this curse-land. At home, he had only sounded insane; happy, angry, cajoling, mocking, but always, always insane. Not so here. "Use the key. I'm sure even you can figure that part out."

With a slight scowl Charming shook the keys out. "And which one would that be?" he asked, his tone with a note of insolence, because there were half a dozen keys on the ring and even though some were larger there weren't any distinguishing marks that indicated what they were meant to be for. Rumpelstiltskin reached across and picked the ring up by one key, shaking it lightly over his palm; Charming took it back, frowning and turning the key over in his hands, then ducked his head so he could insert it into the keyhole and turn it.

And then the car roared and shuddered, and Charming jumped so high his head _did_ hit the ceiling, an echo of the way his heart leapt to his throat and started racing. He let go of the key and the noise and movement died down, but it still left his heart pounding faster than a hangover from Doc's moonshine and his hands trembling faintly with the sudden surge of adrenaline.

That is, the noise from the _car_ died down. The cackling laughter from Rumpelstiltskin didn't, but for a few moments Charming was too busy catching his breath and collecting his wits from the fright to immediately react.

"You might have warned me," he snapped at last, but it was a bit weak and he didn't look over; he could feel that his cheeks were warm with embarrassment.

"And ruin my fun?" Not for the first time, Charming wished he had a weapon to threaten the man with. Last time he and Rumpelstiltskin had met while Rumpelstiltskin was free, equally armed, it was definitely Rumpelstiltskin who had come out the lesser. "Go on; try it again—and hold the key turned, this time."

The prince took a deep breath and reached over to turn the key again, bracing himself for the roar and the shuddering. Even that didn't quite prepare him and he flinched, but this time he didn't release the key and after a moment he heard something sound like it had caught, like the gears in Geppetto's clocks.

"You can let go now," Rumpelstiltskin said over the noise, so Charming did. The sound died out again, but the vibrations didn't, and Charming shifted gingerly in his seat while he put his hands back on the wheel (where else was he meant to put them?). He didn't like this sensation, of the car shaking around him. He didn't like it at all.

"Now, look at the mirrors." Out of the corner of his eye Charming caught the motion as Rumpelstiltskin gestured toward the mirror in the centre-point of the front window, and then at the mirrors on the sides of the car. It wasn't until he actually looked at them from this position that Charming realised they were situated so he could see behind him—sort of. "They ought to be adjusted so you can see to your rear—like this—"

Rumpelstiltskin moved the centre mirror by hand but then, once again, he leaned into Charming's personal space. Hastily the prince took his hands off the wheel, leaning back and watching as the man found a panel on the side of the door and demonstrated how to make the outside mirrors swivel. When he leaned back and indicated for Charming to try, Charming eyed him and then gingerly pressed on the panel himself, watching in fascination as the mirror tilted. It took a minute or two before he found the best positioning, and at least part of that was because he couldn't help but play with it a bit, tilting it this way and that and seeing how far the mirror angled. It was only when he became aware that Rumpelstiltskin was watching him with clear amusement and a faint smirk that Charming cleared his throat, fixed both mirrors and then wrestled with the centre one until he could use it to see over his shoulder.

"Good boy." With nothing but a grin at Charming's glower, Rumpelstiltskin pointed at the knobby rod between the seats. "This is the gearstick. Luckily for you this car is automatic and much easier to drive." He didn't say compared to what, and Charming didn't ask. He was already regretting even agreeing to this ridiculous deal, especially if it meant having to willingly spend more time with Rumpelstiltskin. Even so, he had to pay attention, because the concept of 'gears' wasn't one he'd heard before and he was determined not to let Rumpelstiltskin have to go over them more than once.

Fortunately it seemed that might be easier than not, because it turned out he would only need a few of the 'gears' and not all. At least, that's what Charming thought before Rumpelstiltskin started explaining the pedals at his feet and talking about brakes and acceleration, and Charming _knew_ his expression was completely baffled.

In the end Rumpelstiltskin only smiled—a Rumpelstiltskin smile, of course, which meant it was closer to a smirk and entirely predatory. "Never mind, _dearie_. Just do what I say at first and I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. You're Prince Charming, after all." And then he chuckled quietly to himself at the joke only he understood, while Charming resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

"Put the gear into Reverse," Rumpelstiltskin ordered, and Charming didn't need his gleeful tone of voice to know his companion was very much enjoying giving him orders. The prince exhaled, sat straight and upright in his chair almost as if he were riding a horse, set his jaw and obeyed. The gearstick felt foreign in his hand and the thunk as it slotted into each gear-point was almost lost beneath the quiet rumble of the car. "Now put your foot on the brake pedal—all the way down."

Gingerly Charming put his foot down on a pedal, but nothing happened until Rumpelstiltskin told him to put the hand-brake down too. _Then_ Charming felt the car move—not forward or back, just lifting slightly, like a horse just released from a halter and straining to be given its head. The comparison wasn't enough to calm the prince's nerves; his whole body felt at once tight and tingling with adrenaline, and he could feel with the sort of energy it was that it would leave him entirely exhausted once it had fled. The car vibrated around him, but it was nothing like the restlessness of a stallion; it made him feel almost trapped in this carriage that roared.

"Take your foot off the brake and put it on the accelerator."

Mindful of Rumpelstiltskin's trick with unlocking the car, Charming didn't put too much pressure on the other pedal—or at least he _thought_ he hadn't. Then the car shot back like a horse out of a gate and Charming jumped, his heart leaping to his throat; his foot instinctively pressed down and his hands jerked, sending them careening toward a wall. He jerked his foot away; the car's backward hurtle cut in half; a third hand joined his on the wheel and _tugged__—_and then they were no longer aimed at the wall but at the open garage door. They rolled to a halt right in the entrance, but Charming didn't do anything at first, too busy clutching the wheel to hide the tremble in his hands and taking deep, gulping breaths, the seatbelt tight across his chest.

Beside him, Rumpelstiltskin laughed.

_What __kind __of __means __of __travel _is _this_? Charming wondered, shaken and very much wanting out of this car _now_. He actually fumbled for the door handle and he'd swung it open before—

"Oh Prince Charming~! Even if you leave now, our _arrangement_ still stands."

The prince stopped, exhaled, tried to ignore the way his heart pounded in favour of turning toward Rumpelstiltskin. The infuriating man was lounging in his chair as if absolutely nothing frightening had happened in the least, his cane still planted against the floor and hands resting on its top, watching Charming with clear amusement … and a clinical gleam in his eye.

It took Charming a moment to sort that out in his mind. The deal had been for him to drive. But how could he drive when he couldn't, well, _drive_?

"Of course, it would have to be in the horse and carriage I keep in the stable a mile from here," Rumpelstiltskin said with a twitching tilt of his head and a smile that would have been charismatic had it been on anyone else.

Charming let out a slow breath. He could always refuse, but Rumpelstiltskin was sure to make life even more difficult for him, and in the meantime he won't have learned _anything_ new. The horse and carriage were too far for him to simply use at a moment's notice; they were also an oddity in this world, if Rumpelstiltskin was to be believed, and not nearly as fast. (After the way the car had moved, Charming was very inclined to believe that assertion.)

He needed as many advantages as he could get. He _needed_ to learn to drive this car. Setting his jaw again, Charming yanked the door closed and settled back into his chair, pulling on the seatbelt to readjust it.

"Good boy," Rumpelstiltskin said again. "Now, try again—more slowly, this time."

Sitting up straight and tense in his chair, Charming took one last deep breath to let out slowly, staring fixedly through the window. He _would_ learn how to drive this car. He _would_. For Snow. For Emma.

Ignoring Rumpelstiltskin's amused gaze, he put his foot gently back on the accelerator.


End file.
